~I play games and stuff~

╰┈➤ steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, "very mature."

but he tries to be patient with you. he's able to sympathize that it must surely be strange and uncomfortable to suddenly move into a new house, in a new town, all the while having to adapt to living with people you're not familiar with apart from a few awkward, forced "family" dinners.

╰┈➤ this whole situation with your parents was a little awkward for him, too. but he'd been able to handle it much better than you. after all, he gotten the good end of the bargain. he didn't have to move from his hometown, he'd long since accepted his parents' divorce, he wasn't calling you his sister, and you weren't really loud nor did you take up much space.

╰┈➤ but since the beginning, there was definitely a tension between you that neither of you could quite pin down. you were quiet, clearly bothered by the entire situation you'd been dragged into by your mother. despite the way you took out your frustrations on steve, there was a lingering curiosity there. an invisible barrier stood between you two that neither of you knew how to break through.

╰┈➤ steve was the one trying to extend kindness, trying to meet you in the middle when he could tell you were upset with everything else in your life.

╰┈➤ not only is steve's bed bigger, but yours is partially taken up by a pile of plushies. one time, steve came into your room to help you unpack boxes and at some point, he'd asked about the plushies. you explained that they'd feel unloved if they didn't all get to be on the bed with you. he started picking them up and tossing them into the rocking chair in the corner of the room, trying to reason with you.

"hun, your bed would be more comfortable if you gave yourself a little more space. just try it."

╰┈➤ only for you to get teary eyed and raise your voice at him for the first time. because from your point of view he was practically throwing your babies around!

╰┈➤ that was the first time he cut through the tension between you two. after rearranging your plushies close enough to their original resting places, he came up to you and took your hands within his, running his thumbs over the backs of yours.

"c'mon now, don't cry." he crooked his neck to catch a glimpse of your teary, down turned face, hair acting as a curtain over your pouty expression.

"please, don't tell my dad I made you cry." one of his hands left yours so that his thumb could brush away some stray tears. "you can come sleep in my room if you run out of space, 'kay? just... don't cry anymore."

╰┈➤ he'd said it as extending an olive branch, trying to find anything that could make living here more comfortable for you since you'd done nothing but complain about it since your arrival.

╰┈➤ "it's not... it's not just the plushies." you'd managed to whisper out between voice cracks, barely holding together your composure. "it's not even you, steve. I'm sorry I take it out on you... it's not fair."

╰┈➤ you hear him exhale a deep, heavy sigh. one that sounded like he'd been subconsciously holding in for weeks.

he knew. he always knew that it wasn't him. and even though he didn't know you very well, he still hated that you'd been forced under the same roof as him and were clearly miserable about it.

╰┈➤ "still... I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry." he murmurs and before he knows it and can stop himself, he's placing a kiss on your forehead.

╰┈➤ it's a sweet, innocent kiss. it wasn't anything that would be considered odd for family to do. hell, you had annoying aunties that would overdo it on the kisses at the end of every family reunion and that was much more than the measly little peck steve gave you.

╰┈➤ it wasn't the level of intimacy of the kiss, but rather the sweet attempt at calming you down. it was the closest thing to affectionate than either of you had been willing to be towards one another at this point. a gesture so gentle that you might have missed it if you blinked.

╰┈➤ and yet, you couldn't stop thinking about it. at night, you'd wonder how it would feel if he kissed you elsewhere. and every time you caught sight of his lips, you were staring at them in a different way. noticing details like the color of soft pink, the arch of his upper lip, or the way his tongue would dart out to run along his bottom lip whenever he was focused or thinking hard about something.

╰┈➤ after that day in your room, you'd find all kinds of little excuses to hangout in your big brother's room. at first, you took a peek in there when he wasn't home. your curiosity had been piqued, and you couldn't take it anymore, you just wanted to know what his space was like. what was he like.

╰┈➤ the first thing that stuck out was the fact that he had a huge, fancy stereo system. curiously, you carded through his tape and record collection to see what kind of music he was into. you studied the posters and the one-off fliers pinned to the navy-blue painted walls and the sports memorabilia adorning the shelves.

╰┈➤ you eventually got down on your knees to take a peak under his bed, surprised to find that it was mostly clean under there aside from a pair of sneakers, a basketball, some nudie magazines, and a pair of panties that looked like ones you used to have before they got lost in the move.

╰┈➤ even his bedroom door was better than yours, covered with a layer of noise cancelling foam boards. it was intended for when he'd have girls over. and it just so happened to work in his favor again as he caught you - ass up and upper body shoved under the bed.

╰┈➤ when you finally noticed his shadow cast across the floorboards, after who knows how long of him silently observing you, you bumped your head on the wooden slats of the bedframe in a panicked scramble to get back to your feet. you whined and held the back of your head as you sat on the floor, looking up at him with a warm face and blurry eyes.

"what're you, uhh, what're you doing in my room...?" Steve asked. his voice wasn't angry like you'd expected it to be. mostly it was just confused and slightly worried as he remembered the panties.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm sorry." you sputtered out, "I was just curious."

╰┈➤ Steve understood being just curious better than he was ready to admit to your face.

"it's alright, no need for tears." he furrowed his eyebrows as he sat down on the edge of the bed. you stayed on your knees at his feet, still feeling too embarrassed to move.

"just... make sure to knock before coming in from now on, yeah?"

╰┈➤ after that, you'd knock sheepishly on his door and wait for him to either open it or yell out that it was open. you'd go to him during thunderstorms or because you saw a scary movie on cable earlier, or because you were feeling sad and didn't want to be alone.

╰┈➤ eventually, it got to the point where you didn't even bother to give an excuse as to why you were there. and he eventually stopped feeling the need to ask you every time. there was no need for justification, you both just silently accepted that this was how things were now.

╰┈➤ on particularly busy weeks, where steve was swamped with working extra shifts or working on college midterms, you'd go through and collect the piles of clothes that had accumulated on the bedroom floor. you'd always make sure to harass him about it later, complaining that he's such a slob and so lazy, but both of you know you don't mean it.

"oh, yeah? then why do you keep coming back in here then, huh?" he argues with a cocky tone and a half smile. it gets you to shut up real quick.

╰┈➤ it got to the point where some weekends your room would go untouched. the air stayed cold and stale, the scent of your perfume no longer wafting. your items lay pristine right where you'd left them friday afternoon, cardigan slung over the back of your desk chair, a textbook lay open to a specific chapter, and socks sat inside out on the floor.

╰┈➤ on the weekends, you liked having sleepovers with steve. his bedding sets were perfectly worn down from years of use, he was always warm, his room always the perfect temperature to combat the weather, and it all smells like his cologne.

╰┈➤ his mattress is softer and contorts to your body in all the right places. it's pre worn and it shows by the prominent dip in the center of the bed, where you two always end up sliding into like it's a gravitational pull. you always end up tucked under his arm and curled up to his side.

╰┈➤ plus, he gets to have a tv, a mini fridge stocked with beer and cola, his room faces the back of the house, so the sunlight doesn't shine in obnoxiously at the crack of dawn, and most importantly of all — steve is there.

╰┈➤ that's the one most important thing that separates your room from his and makes his wholly superior. steve's room is better because in there, you're safe with your stupid, lazy, slobbish, but thoughtful, protective, and caring big brother. the only reason this house is worth staying in.